The Inhumane
by anbuu
Summary: A young girl Viola stumbles upon a Sylvarant which no one could have foreseen...
1. Chapter 1

head full of raspberries yes and eyes darting wildly the world slow dark moody as the cliff approached and enveloped her, her crying wrists, forehead, and stomach screaming for help in the ∞ mist. but the unknown pushed forward ever-conceited and full of malice until the foot slipped and the ground became the sky for ever and a day into the darkness of pride and prejudice for those unaccustomed to the taste of fruit, spit out the seeds they are no more useful as the ground swallowed the young heroine to be laughing all the while while she wept for a wasted existence until the ground came again and gently kissed her forehead

She gasped and jumped upright from her sleeping position in fright from the nightmare she had just endured. Recently, she had had a reoccurring dream every night of the week. Despite the frequency of her nightmares, Viola still couldn't explain the significance that she felt toward the dream itself. The dream always slipped away like dandelion seeds floating away in a current of air. However, despite the fleeting imagery, she could still distinguish the obscure scars on her forehead, wrist and stomach, all of which she felt no pain. This did not sway her as much as the precipice which she fell from, an inexplicable symbol of which Viola did not understand. Afterwards, she could not remember anything else, but what remained both baffled and frightened her like no other incident or being of her world ever could, as far as she knew. She needed answers and _fast_. Viola felt that she was on the verge of madness without the reasons.

She then stood up beneath the glorious oak tree that had shaded her from the rich, mystical moon light and walked out into its blanket. Ever since Viola was a child, or as far as she could remember at least, she had lived on her own with no recollection of her parents or any kind of guardian for that matter. Thus, Viola learned the ways of her world, which she didn't even know the name of, through her own experiences. She taught herself how to cook certain meats that could be encountered in the wilderness and to sew the cloths that she wore. Now, still youthful, Viola was 18 and ready to further educate herself in a local town. There was one major dilemma Viola had to face--living in the wilderness for long periods of time can diminish the will to speak and socialize. She was subject to lapses in both. She also had trouble keeping her directions straight, because she had always picked a random direction to walk in before.

Viola wore herself out thinking about her difficulties and drifted back to sleep until the morning came.

A rustle in the grass just a few meters away from her, Viola slowly rose from her slumber and searched the field ahead of her. As her eyes came into focus, she realized how late in the morning it was and hurriedly packed her bedroll and started up the field in front of her. Oddly enough, she forgot to do her usual spin to find the direction and instead followed the wind, a sign that today she was confident. Today she would find a village worth all the effort she put into finding and they would have everything she needed.

About an hour later, she found the village she had long awaited. Considering the fact that she had been in the vicinity before, she questioned herself as to why she hadn't noticed it long beforehand. Unfortunately, it had a surprising aura about it. Desolate and gloomy, the village seemed far darker than anything around her. Why, even the land seemed shadowed before her! She could have sworn that the fields before her eyes and the trees she brushed against were lively a moment ago, even through the cold breeze! Surely Viola was dreaming, or at the very least fatigued. Even though she was sure that she was hallucinating, Viola approached the village with caution.

"What on earth is the matter?" asked Viola to herself as she slowly crept up behind the first house to peer around. The village seemed abandoned, devoid of living beings for quite some time, and upon confirmation Viola slowly and wearily came around the house to the center of the village. She suddenly felt dizzy and imbalanced, beginning to cough violently. She clutched her chest in agony as she dropped to her knees, and in between coughs she realized the town was engulfed in a thick miasma, strengthening towards the center of the town.

It was at this time a door creaked open from on of the nearby houses and an old, emaciated man peeked through the slit, eyeing the young girl in astonishment. There were very few children left in the village, for they had all died from illnesses that the doctor was powerless against. To see a young girl in full health was quite a surprise and definitely a Godsend for the people of Iselia.

"Goddess be praised," wheezed the old man to the few adults lying in the back of the house, "our misfortune may not last for long. Another has come."

Upon hearing this glorious news, the people scurried as quickly as the sick are able and busted through the door, catching Viola by surprise, and seized her up on their shoulders. Viola was taken aback at the entire spectacle and dropped her knapsack in the commotion while struggling to free herself from the unusually strong grips of the townsfolk. Even in their illness, the people found the strength to apprehend the poor girl and haul her through the town, where numerous other elderly folk peered through the windows and doors of their homes to watch.

Viola was being taken up to an unusual building on top of what seemed to be a cliff overlooking the village. Rushing into the antiquated building, the townspeople set her down roughly on the cold stone floor, and as Viola raised her eyes up she could see a thin, tall figure standing before her clothed in white robes. Viola at once knew what he was: a priest of some sort. But for whom? Viola was unaware of any gods or goddesses in her world and simply assumed there were none, but being away from civilization for an immense amount of time can eat away at your understanding of the world, so this puzzlement was to be expected.

"Why, it seems as though our hopes are not altogether wasted," spoke the priest as he lent a hand to Viola and raising her to her feet. "We've been praying for a savior to redeem us from this wretched world, and as I now see Martel has answered our prayers. What I am about to tell you and what we desire you to do will be vital for the survival of our world and should not be taken lightly. The goddess has ordained--"

The priest was cut off by the desperate sobs of Viola, who hid her face in her hands and knelt over in a pained position after being fed the information from the clergyman. The priest, puzzled by this change in demeanor, lowered himself to her level and tried to console her, for he believed she was frightened by the task he was about to present. However, this was not the case.

"Why are you crying my child? Martel has granted you a gracious gif--," the priest attempted to coo.

"I don't care!" she managed to yelp between sobs while scurrying into the corner of the room. "A-All I wanted was a place to live, friends, and a good life. Now it's all slipping away and none of you c-c-care! S-selfishness, bitter s-selfishness…"

The people were indeed being selfish in this light, caring more for themselves than for the young woman they were about to use. They had previously sent off a young maiden for the very same perilous task, and as far as she knew the townspeople were still cheering her on, though in all honesty they only cared for their well-being and not her safety.

"But we do care for you! Martel is here to off her warm embrace for those in need," whispered the priest as he approached and hugged her in a loving way, trying to physically give the gift of Martel through himself to her. "We'll let you live and work here, even give you a lovely house if you but only help us in our time of need. It is not only our duty but also yours, as the world is all ours, and as you can see none of us are fit enough to leave the village. We will aid..." continued on the priest, but it mattered not, for Viola had passed out from a mixture of exhaustion, fear, and the thick miasma around the area, her head falling limply in the priests embrace. Once he noticed she was no longer conscious, he quickly stopped and motioned for the townspeople, who promptly gathered her up and fastened her to a bed in the corner of the building. She _would_ serve her purpose.

"Selfish we may be," the priest addressed to the people, "our intentions for the good of the world are genuine, and this girl shall be the vessel through which Martel will correct the previous one's mistake and bring the power back to _our_ world."

Night fell upon the village, and the only sound heard around the village was the wheezing of poor Viola, unaware of what was to happen to her...


	2. Chapter 2

Viola's eyes opened to a dark, damp room much different from the one she was in beforehand. In the middle of the room stood a large, translucent blue pedestal of an unknown stone which emitted a dim but deep blue hue before her eyes. She herself sat on a circular engraving in the floor which resembled the pedestal in an odd way. Both gave off a foreign light which both frightened and intrigued Viola in her observations but which did not stop further investigation.

Standing up and moving closer seemed the right thing to do if Viola wished to know more, however when she tried a light emanated from the ceiling and blinded her temporarily. Allowing a gasp to escape, the young girl backed up and, shielding her eyes, peered up at the silhouette of a winged creature floating downward. _Could it be an angel, a heavenly being sent to help me in my time of need? _Viola couldn't help but wonder if the slowly descending entity was sent to aid her in her quest for a home. It mattered not, though, since this had to be a genuinely benevolent and gracious being and in her heart of hearts that he would save her from her predicament.

When the light subsided and the angel's presence became apparent to her, Viola was speechless in her amazement. He was cloaked in a glorious purple robe with long flowing blonde hair and angular features. His head was adorned with a magnificent crown with six sapphires that shone forth a bright blue which lit the entire room. On his back were two wings, both bright white and large. This was the definition of an angel, unbridled and righteous beauty most notably followed with kindness and mercy. Viola was in awe the moment her eyes met his, and more than once did she have to stop her mouth from lying agape at his splendor.

"Hello my daughter Viola," began the angel. "I am Amduscias, servant and follower of our Goddess Martel. I am to bestow upon you the powers of the Chosen and the blessings of the Goddess for your journey of regeneration. First, I give you the Tower of Salvation which you shall enter to restore the world to the way it once was, and second I give you the mark of the Chosen, a seal which binds you to this most important task. Along your journey you must pray at several shrines throughout the world in order to gain the necessary angelic powers needed to traverse the Tower of Salvation. Your first stop will be south of here, in the land of Triet. You shall receive your next destination when you pray in Triet. Do you understand?"

Viola studied the angel and his words closely, pondering the task before her. As it seemed she had no choice but to go through with the journey since she was chosen herself by an angel to go. This was a serious blow to her plans of a peaceful life, but under the circumstances she reasoned that even without this opportunity living in this town would be harsh and unbearable. It was then decided; she would journey to regenerate the world, and maybe then she could live a peaceful life in a beautiful little town.

"Yes father," she responded, "I understand. But there is one thing I need to know—"

Screams pierced through the air whilst Viola tried to speak. Her ears perked up and she looked around for the source of the commotion. Then, looking up to the angel, she made a face that inquired about the uproar heard outside.

"Well, now you see the first obstacle in your path to salvation," the angel spoke with a smirk. "While we may wish for the regeneration of the world, some of your own people do not share the same intentions. Prove to me that you are worthy as a Chosen and escape here alive. We shall meet in Triet, if fate allows it."

"Wait, Amduscias—!" Viola cried in desperation, but with a flash the angel vanished, leaving her feeling deeply troubled and terribly shaky. What was she to do? How was she supposed to leave and escape Goddess knows what outside? How was she going to accomplish world regeneration on her own?

Stepping back in a whirlwind of confusion, she found herself standing on the strange engraving from which she originally awoke. Suddenly, a jolt of energy shot through her body and the world around began to warp and twist. Not knowing what was happening, Viola knelt down and covered her head, allowing a yelp of fright to escape. But as quickly as it started it stopped, and now finding herself in the main chamber of the temple-like structure Viola walked toward the exit where she could smell the burning of tinder and human flesh.

"Oh God—" she let out before clasping her hands over nose and mouth to prevent inhaling the noxious fumes. A muffled, "This can't be happening!" seeped out as she rummaged around the temple for cloth or some other fabric. Finally finding a spare curtain in the back, she quickly ripped a long piece from the cleaner portion of the sheet. Then, wrapping the cloth around her nose and mouth, she ran out into the open which was now covered in a thick black smoke coming from the village, rising hundreds of feet into the air and slowly spreading throughout the general area.

Somehow finding the strength to move on, Viola desperately leaped down the stairs, hitting the ground hard and then breaking into a roll. When she found her footing she continued around the hills to the village, knowing that the only way to go further south was through the village and around the other side. The only obstacle then was to get through the village without being killed, for something horrible was happening that she no doubt did not want to see. Undoubtedly people were being killed and her future home was now burning, not quite a pleasant thought and most certainly not an easy obstacle to avoid.

Upon reaching the village, the young woman stopped short and hid behind a charred tree. Peeking around, she could see the bodies of those who had carried her to the temple as well as countless others, their bodies burnt and mangled beyond recognition. Her eyes widened, and a steady stream of tears flowed down her cheeks as she could not stop the sobbing. Who had done this? What need was there to kill those who virtually had nothing left at all? What sick sort of person would murder the elderly when there was no gain? Suddenly she saw a group of armored soldiers with ornate head pieces carrying staves, scanning around for stragglers. Viola quickly slipped back behind the tree, hoping that they will somehow pass the area by without a search. Unfortunately they turned her way and began searching the houses, giving her a little time to think. Then suddenly she thought of a way to fool them, and they were inside one of the houses, she quickly ran to a pile of bodies and buried herself amidst them, pretending to be dead.

After a moment or two the idea was not as great as she had originally thought. The odor was unbearable and the sight was wretched. Nausea set in, and it was not long before she felt sick beyond reason as she waited and prayed for the mysterious soldiers to leave the village. Not long after she prayed this, the group assembled nearby the pile of bodies where Viola could hear them speak.

"This blasted village is secured, now let's move on to that damned temple," said one soldier. "Stupid humans thought they found themselves a new Chosen. True or not, we must secure the temple and confirm that another hasn't been found or else all our efforts will be in vain. Let's go men!"

And with that they were off, hurriedly moving towards the temple with all the intentions of destroying anything moving inside. Viola saw her chance and dug her way out of the stinking mass of bodies. Making sure the coast was clear, she sprinted off south, passing through the gate of the village and then running out into a vast land devoid of anything except forests and open grasslands.

She stopped short about a kilometer outside of the village and stooped over, gasping for air and glancing around in a panicked state, still under the effects of the adrenaline of the scene. What was all this for? Why must _she_ be the one to endanger her life and restore the world? None of this had been explained, none of it made clear to her as to how simply embarking on a pilgrimage would save the world from ruin. If this goddess was as kind as she was made out to be, then why would she allow such destruction in the world? All this confused Viola and seemed to defy logic, but surely there was a reason behind the madness, a purpose for this "cleansing" of the world. In the end, it still did not make much sense. What Viola did understand is that she must run, she must stay alive and try to help in any way she can.

With that, she continued forward into the wilderness towards a town named Triet which the angel Amduscias spoke of, hoping that when she arrived someone would make sense of all this madness.

Meanwhile, the soldiers that moved to the temple had arrived and entered without care of customs, care, or piety. They found themselves in the main chamber, setting fires and using massive maces to break any sort of religious memorabilia. A few warped into the back chamber and destroyed the dais that was located in the center of the room as well as the large crystal-like structure in the floor and ceiling. The soldiers left content with their destruction.

Once they left the temple and gathered around the foot of the stairs, one soldier noticed a patch of blood smeared into the dirt. None of the soldiers were bleeding and all of the people in the village were burned, so how had blood found its way out this far? At last they knew: the Chosen wasn't just a rumor, and somehow he or she was able to escape without their knowledge, right under their noses! The captain was infuriated by this lack of attention from his soldiers. He walked up to his subordinate officer, who had been in charge of all the comings and goings through the group, and pulled out his jeweled dagger.

"This is the last time commander," he threatened. "I appointed you because I felt you were competent enough to lead my men to find this threat, and now I see that some little runt has escaped without your knowledge! How dare you call yourself a Desian you worthless pig!" And in his rage the captain shoved his dagger deep into the commander's stomach, pulling it out and stabbing again while the men watched but dare not oppose. This lasted for as long as the commander could continue to stand, and when it was finished there was nothing left of his original stomach.

The captain, now calm, wiped his dagger on the cloak of another soldier and sheathed it, walking out towards the village. "If I find that my own men cannot capture a measly little child, I'll have you all executed! Now get moving!" The men, too frightened to object in any way, simply nodded and ran forward in formation, looking for the scent that would lead them to their prey…


End file.
